


Strung Up

by Thegoldenrati0



Category: Orphan Black
Genre: F/F, Kinky, Smut, Smut Fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 09:30:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3169886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thegoldenrati0/pseuds/Thegoldenrati0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah’s spine had been forced perfectly vertical in her current position. She eyed up her bonds. A leather belt wrapped intricately around her wrists and the cold bar bolted into the ceiling. What does Rachel Duncan have planned for her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strung Up

Strung Up

Propunk

 

Sarah’s spine had been forced perfectly vertical in her current position. She eyed up her bonds. A leather belt wrapped intricately around her wrists and the cold bar bolted into the ceiling. Her arms crossed each other, the backs of her hands resting against each other. Her body was stretched to its full height, her strengthened core ensured she could bear the strain.

She wanted to flex her fingers, she wanted to shift her bare feet that were numb from the rosewood floor. The low lighting of the room enhanced the deep red grains through it. She didn’t move, didn’t twitch, she made certain to not so much as sway. Breathing and blinking both slow and deliberate. Control was an unfamiliar concept to Sarah but recent months had taught her the ability to muster it in small doses. It frustrated those who found Sarah’s behaviour to be predictable. 

Those like Rachel Duncan. 

“Comfortable, Sarah?”

Even in the ill-lit bedroom, Sarah could see the thinnest of smiles over Rachel’s lips. 

“Summat like that.”

She spoke with as little venom as possible but they both picked up on the hint of it.

Rachel was resting her back against a dresser of hers, the wood matching the floor. Naturally. The aesthetic of it all had her mouth dry. Her negligée the deepest shade of navy. Closer to black but with an eternal depth to it. The city scape grew before the window and Sarah Manning was tied up to the horizontal bar she had installed specifically for this evening.

With wine in her hand she drank in the view first. Sarah stood powerless before her. Shirtless of course. Rachel watched her abs set in iron as she contracted her core in effort to stay still. There was a certain strength in stillness, but the effect of removing the protective layers of clothing showed how hard Sarah was working for just a simple stillness. It didn’t suit her, she was constantly in motion. Fiddling with her zippers and buttons and sleeves. Tapping away on the nearest surface. Always on the move.

“Nice belt. Boy toys?”

Sarah nodded up in the direction of the sleek leather binding her. At least it was expensive, the softness gave away it’s price tag. The cheap shit would have cut her to shreds already.

“Actually, it’s Paul’s. I found it most poignant.”

She analyzed every millimeter of Sarah’s for a reaction, a scrunch of the nose was her only prize.

“You better have cleaned it first.”

“Hmmm.”

Rachel had her eyes closed remembering the night she had used Paul. Used him because he was the closest she could get to understanding Sarah at the time. She used him as a weapon. She still remembered the feel of his solid jaw under her hand as she slapped him when he moved out of turn.

“It seems Paul wasn’t particularly attentive in your relationship”

Sarah straightened herself as Rachel crossed the room in fell strides. Rachel raised her chin a little higher, another reminder of her status above Sarah.

No words, no warnings just the loud crack and bitter sting of Rachel’s backhand across Sarah’s cheek. Her face struck with such force the tendons at the back of her neck tweaked. 

The calmness shattered. Sarah lurched forward, desperate to have her hands around Rachel’s throat. She had no idea how Paul linked her to getting a smack. The belt held her strong, Rachel had done a bang up job of securing it. Sarah couldn’t get an inch on her. Her clone seemed to know this, she hadn’t even blink when Sarah jumped at her. 

“Well now we know.”

Wine had splashed onto Sarah’s stomach and a single drop was running down the central definition of her abs. Not one to waste good wine - especially on Sarah - Rachel ran her finger from her waistband up, meeting the droplet in the middle and licking it off.

“Shall we continue?”

“Go fuck ya’self”

A raised eyebrow.

“We’ve been there once before?”

They both had a flurry of images from the night Rachel had forced Sarah to watch as she pleasured herself.

She looked away out of the building annoyance. Bloody Duncan loved to do this. She wound Sarah up like a top because the kinky bitch loved the aggression it inspired in the punk when she was finally let off the chain - so to speak - to have her way. Rachel could never deny she loved being thrown around by Sarah. She would stare at the bruises left behind the next morning, resenting their purple stain on her flawless skin. The cycle would continue. She’d seek revenge for Sarah’s insubordination and Sarah would destroy her.

“Answer me.”

“Aye.”

Rachel clicked her tongue, Sarah knew better.

“Yeah.”

That would suffice. 

Rachel deftly flicked open the button on Sarah’s jeans. She despised the way the scruffy clone would try and wiggle out of them. She took the belt loops around her fingers and using the perfect pressure she could lowered them in one. They sat at Sarah’s ankles, it would take minimum effort on her part.

“Step out.”

“Get lost.”

Sarah was really digging her heels in tonight, but she was the only one who would suffer. Without a word, Rachel turned to leave, collecting her glass. She walked towards the door and stopped in the frame.

There was a ruffling behind her and Sarah’s jeans hit the wall next to Rachel. She smirked and slowly turned back. Self-preservation was Sarah’s forte. She was one with her body and there was only so long it would be able to withstand the strain. Her body was perfection. Sarah Manning, strung up and waiting.

Rachel retraced her steps and stood nose to nose with Sarah. She loved the way her breathing was starting to labor. Her arms must be tiring.

She kissed Sarah roughly, the belt gave a soft squeak as Sarah leaned her full weight forward to add force to the kiss. The first real contact was like air. Rachel understood this. She let it linger, she kissed Sarah’s neck. She bit and tugged at the fragile skin with her teeth. She couldn’t tell whether Sarah was bruised or it was the lipstick smudges across her pale flesh. 

Moving herself behind Sarah, Rachel sank to her knees. She would never usually put herself lower than Sarah but considering the compromising position her clone she deemed it safe. Sarah had no power here. No leverage. She belonged to Rachel.

Her hands wanted to take it all in. Sarah had no choice but to abide. When they were in bed together it was usually so rushed, if Rachel would ever try to tease or slow things down, Sarah’s impulses would get the better of her and she could easily overpower the business woman.

She flattened her hands up Sarah’s calves, her fingers fanned out as she moved upwards. She felt Sarah pull again. Frustration starting to blur with anger. It was apparent in the way she shifted her weight from leg to leg. 

Rachel was in no mood to answer.

She braced her hands on her hips, nails digging in slightly to balance herself. She started at the crease of Sarah’s knee, she exhaustingly slowly ran her tongue up the back of Sarah’s muscular thigh. She didn’t miss the flutter of breath exhaled at the motion.

Still at Sarah’s feet, Rachel reached between her legs

Rachel stood tall, Sarah’s shoulders were beginning to hunch over She ran a finger against Sarah’s clit. Testing her temperament and her obedience. She felt her clone step slightly to open herself up but it wasn’t going to be that easy for her.

Retracting her hand she met Sarah’s eyes again, gazing intently at the index finger she held between them. 

“So wet, Sarah.”

Rachel tutted. Sarah’s body although a weapon also made her a slave.

The contact had been painfully brief, the respite had left an even greater desperation in its wake. Rachel’s finger soaked in Sarah’s wetness was pulled across the wild clones lips. Sarah tasted herself but that meant she was also tasting Rachel and it was too much.

“Fucks sake. C’mon! Stop fucking around.”

Rachel raised both her eyebrows at Sarah’s little outburst. She had been waiting for it. Sarah had impressed with her resilience lasting longer than expected. This was what Rachel had built up to all evening.

She walked away.

“OI!”

She moved back to the dresser she had begun at.

“RACHEL!”

She loved when Sarah lost herself to this passion. It was glorious to watch. Such intense emotions.

Not even looking at Sarah, she slipped a hand under her lingerie and rubbed her own clit. Eyes closed, head tilted back. She could allow herself to be far more vocal tonight. In fact she made a point of it. She was providing her own pleasure and in her mind there was no greater way. She didn’t have to subdue her voice so as not to let on how good Sarah made her feel. She was free.

“Mmmmm... Yes.”

She gasped and let her eyes fall back to Sarah who was thrashing against her restraints. She was feral. The combination of lust and rage made her magnificent. Her feelings for Rachel were toxic and this was the result.

“RACHEL, YOU BITCH.”

Staying her fingers, Rachel gave a bemused frown.

“Sarah, you’re being rude and I won’t hesitate to tape your mouth shut, yes?”

The threat itself caught Sarah off guard, Rachel wasn’t normally so forward.

“Just... bloody hell.”

“Yes?”  
 Her teeth were sealed shut her heart begging her not to give in. Not to crack but the acidic ache in her arms was starting to become too much. Her body hurt from top to bottom and there was only one way to relieve it.

“Please.”

Sarah spat the word like it was dirt, she couldn’t look at Rachel. She just scowled at the floor. She hadn’t expected such speed from her clone. Kicking her already sore legs apart, Rachel’s fingers were drumming Sarah’s clit. For the first time she was thankful for the bonds, were it not for them she would have been a collapsed mess on the floor. Sarah was better than that.

She didn’t have the energy or patience to contain the moans ripping from her chest. Rachel was relentless. Their breath coming out in equal, rapid bursts from the efforts both were putting in.

Sarah hadn’t seen Rachel this way before. She could see a passion, an actual, unruly passion. They would often deny things witnessed in the heat of the moment. In the nights between sheets or on floors, against walls. Wherever they found themselves.

The fire was building in Sarah. Her head slumping forward on Rachel’s shoulder even though it rocked with the motion of being fucked. She bit down. She drew blood. She tasted it. 

Rachel stood back for a moment. She needed to see this. Sarah Manning was hanging so perfectly in front of her, muscles taut, contracting even though she had stopped. Sweat running down her brow and down her chest. 

“S-Seriously?”

They caught eyes and Sarah panted, almost willing to pray, to beg and plead and sell her soul.

“You piece of-”

She was cut off as Rachel slammed her fingers deep inside Sarah’s cunt. It was fierce, Sarah’s head fell back, she was being fucked unlike anything she could express. This moment would never be captured again. Sarah wouldn’t mention it, but they wouldn’t forget. She would never forget the freedom painted on Rachel’s face. 

The emotional intensity that seemed to be genetic but contained in Rachel was amplified in Sarah. The proclone never permitted herself to indulge in such feelings but there were rare, fleeting moments like this snapshot with Sarah where she burned just as brightly and with the same magnitude. Super novas. 

“Fuck... Finish me...”

Sarah ordered, her voice solid in its conviction. Rachel bringing her fingers back to Sarah’s clit while still pounding into her. Sarah was ready to explode. Rachel could feel it. Those tell-tale pulsations around her fingers.

She stopped. Not withdrawing. Just stopping.

“R-Rachel-”

Sarah barely had time to interject, on the moan of her own name, Rachel fucked and rubbed and threw Sarah head first into a cataclysmic orgasm. She pulled harder against the belt cutting into her wrists, her biceps trembling as her entire body imploded. She was lost to it all. Her knees gave out, her strength depleted.

She was propped up on an equally sweat drenched, exhausted Rachel. They regained their breathes in silence. Allowing the last fragments of pleasure to wash over them. Sarah eventually found her footing again. Her entire body felt like it had been hit a truck and she would take it over and over again. 

Rachel stayed silent. Wiping herself down. She returned to Sarah’s back, placing a kiss to the other woman’s neckline. Reaching up she released the clasp of the belt as Sarah stumbled forward onto one knee with the return of her full body weight.

Rachel Duncan walked towards the bathroom, she didn’t wait for Sarah to follow. She had no intention of it.

“Show yourself out.”

She locked the door and turned the shower on. 

Sarah redressed and left with a slight limp. 

Just like a super nova. They were there and then all traces were gone.


End file.
